


5 Minutes

by neaf



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Episode Related, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neaf/pseuds/neaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren and Chris both struggle with what playing pretend does to their hearts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the filming of Prom Queen. When I say Eric, I'm referring to director Eric Stoltz. This story was written after the episode aired, and the events here run parallel to the hallway scene.

_Darren didn’t want to do it again._  
  
Voices faded and footfalls rang out in jarring symphony as he rounded the corner. The first time he called out – _stop!_ – he felt his voice break just a little, felt the desperation seize his throat.   
  
It was stronger the second time he called, and he kept going, stuttering his steps and almost overbalancing as he came to a stop and pleaded, “Please, just stop, come on.”  
  
Chris wheeled around, hitting his mark with blind, absurd accuracy as he sobbed out his lines.   
  
Darren watched on, pinned to the spot and staring. His could feel his mouth hanging open, feel the moisture in his eyes he had to keep back. It was Blaine washing over him again, and the instinct to reach out was unbearable. The pressure in his chest was crushing, and it was all he could do to breathe.  
  
Chris’s hand fluttered to his mouth after his words tapered off, and Darren felt a sharp twinge punch through his heart. His body urged him forward, and he felt the helplessness creep down into his very bones as he stammered over his line.  
  
His eyes were wide and bright as Chris carried them through the rest of the scene. Darren barely heard the call for cut.  
  
Eric praised them again, but his words sounded soft as if muffled by glass, warped and far away. Darren registered something about setting up for the next scene, and sitting against the lockers, but he missed the rest.  
  
Chris smiled and nodded as Eric spoke, wiping his face down quickly and flashing a hand up with fingers splayed. _Five minutes_ , the gesture asked. Eric nodded knowingly, and Darren blinked in his daze as Chris disappeared around the next corner.  
  
Side-stepping awkwardly, Darren nearly tripped over himself as the cameras rolled through, lining up for the next series of shots. Everything felt like slow motion for a moment, and his eyes flickered to where Chris had disappeared. Somehow, his feet started moving before he processed what was going on, and he wandered carefully down the hall, glancing around the corner to where Chris was leaning heavily against another row of lockers.   
  
“You okay, man?”  
  
Chris’s head jerked up, startled, and he nodded rapidly in response. “Yeah, yeah,” he managed, his arms wrapped tight across his chest. “Just … coming down.” He tried for a laugh, but it was strange and punctured. “Those scenes always knock me around a little.”  
  
Darren nodded in sympathy as he closed the gap between them. “I can imagine. I mean, jeez, I was struggling. And all _I_ had to do was stand around and listen.”  
  
Smiling weakly at him, Chris let out a shaky sigh. Darren rolled his head to the side, watching him carefully.   
  
He waited for a long moment, eyes tracing the line of Chris’s profile as he worked to regain control. But there was a tremble still in his body, a shake to his hands.  
  
Darren felt that twinge again, and his brows drew together in worry. “Chris,” he breathed gently.   
  
That was all it took. Chris closed what was left of the space between them, draping himself over Darren’s body helplessly and resting a head on his shoulder. Shutting his eyes and steadying himself against the rush, Darren pressed both hands to Chris’s back protectively, splayed and clinging to the fabric of his jacket.   
  
They stood still, quiet in the shadows of the empty hall, simply holding on with everything they had left. Darren felt an ache in his ribs as he silently longed for earlier days, and that world where everything was two-stepping in navy blazers, and fireplace duets. When everything was bubbles and dancing on furniture, and he never had to stand there, numb and helpless, and watch Chris cry.  
  
Chris sighed into his shoulder, and Darren felt a smile curl at the edge of his mouth as he opened his eyes.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Chris said softly into the fabric of his jacket. “I just needed…”  
  
“I know,” Darren said with a sad smile. He breathed out softly: “thank you.”  
  
Chris chuckled silently, but didn’t pull away. “For what?”  
  
Darren rested their heads together, and let his eyes fall closed again. “For letting me hold onto you, man, I felt like I was going to break something if I had to stand there any longer.”  
  
He felt Chris’s arms squeeze, and the sharp exhale as he buried his face deeper into Darren’s shoulder. “God, can I keep you?” he uttered in a muffled, teary sob.  
  
Darren smiled, and pressed a kiss into Chris’s hair. “You know the answer.”  
  
Chris smiled, and sniffled gently. It didn’t matter how long they had or what they still had left to do, he figured. Darren needed to hold him just as badly as he’d needed to be held, and Chris felt the ache in his chest melt away as he thanked every glittering, cardboard star above them for whatever was left of five minutes.


End file.
